I miss seeing you
by Sokeefe555
Summary: Another Sokeefe fic... sorry I'm not original. rated m purposely. Happy reading.


**Hello friends! I know it's been a while... sorry about that. High school is taking up most of my time. Not an excuse, though. I HAVE to update my other story, I know, but I've had terrible writer's block for forever now. Hope you guys enjoy! **

**Also: Fair warning, this does have sexual content. Whether or not you are okay with that is none of my business, but if you're not, please don't read!**

* * *

"I have to study."

"But you have a photographic memory!"

"That doesn't mean I don't have to study!"

"Yes it does!"

"What is your problem with me studying?"

"There's just so many better things that we could be doing!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know! Just not _studying!_"

Sophie sighed. "Keefe, midterms are next week."

"Fine," he said. "But after that, we get to do something that I want."

"Deal. Now let me study."

He smiled. "Okay."

She grabbed her notebook, and he grabbed his. The scratching of a sketching pencil was the only sound after that. Sophie got so lost in studying that she didn't notice when Keefe moved to sit behind her on the bed, and jumped when his head rested on her shoulder.

"Whatcha studying?"

"Elvin History."

"Ugh. That's so annoying."

"Yeah. Kind of."

She suddenly noticed that his face was only inches away from her, and butterflies erupted in stomach, sending heat to her cheeks.

He smirked. "You alright there, Foster?"

"Mhm hm," she said, nodding her head slightly.

"Really? 'Cause I just felt a little change in emotions there."

"What emotion?" She blurted.

His smirk turned deadly. "Something that makes me think that you might liii—"

"Shut up, Keefe. I'm trying to study."

His smirk vanished, and he took his chin off of her shoulder. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Sorry. I should probably just go."

He was grabbing his notebook, turning to leave, when Sophie said, "Wait, Keefe. I... didn't mean go."

"Nah, it's fine. My—"

"You can't make excuses about needing to be home on time anymore, Keefe. You're in the gold tower now."

"Oh."

"Come back," she asked, inviting him back to where he had been like a warm blanket.

"Are you... are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He fidgeted, but mumbled, "I don't know."

"Come back," she said again.

"So demanding." He got back on the bed, but didn't sit close enough to even touch her.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'm cold."

He scooted closer, this time so close that his entire chest pressed against her back. "Better?" he asked, laughing as she leaned back into him.

She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and looked up at him. "I miss seeing you at Foxfire."

"You see me three times a week when you go—"

"I meant at lunch as stuff, genius."

"Oh. I miss seeing you, too." He smiled sadly.

"What were you saying earlier?" She asked.

"About what?"

"About my feelings." She knew very well what he was going to say.

He tensed, then cocked his head to the side to look down at her with raised eyebrows. "This some kind of... test, isn't it?"

"N- no. Not a test. I didn't—"

He cut her off by pressing his lips gently against hers.

"Consider your test passed." She blinked, looking up at him.

"I... I..."

"Or... did you not want that test passed," he asked, cringing. "I'm so sorry—"

She leaned her head up, kissing him just barely, then coming back down.

"I can't reach," she complained.

He blinked once, the only sign of his surprise, then smirked. "Really?"

She huffed. "Yes, really. It's not my fault I'm short."

"Huh." He leaned down and kissed her again. "Sophie?"

"Yes?"

"I... I think I love you." His eyes darted to hers, a worried look on his face.

She smiled. "I think I love you too."

He smiled, too, that worried look gone. "Wonderful. Now I get to do this." He lunged for her and tickled her mercilessly.

"No— Keefe— Stop! Ah!" She giggled, trying to get him off.

"Never," he said, a playful smirk on his soft lips.

He tickled her until she finally got on top of him and pinned him down. She had to straddle his hips to keep him from pinning her with his legs, and had to hold his arms down with her hands.

"Hey!" He protested.

"All's fair in love and war, buddy."

"Ugh," he groaned, faking annoyance. "You are the most annoying—"

"Shut up," she grumbled, her muscles straining to keep him pinned.

"Make me," he smirked.

"Fine." She leaned down, flattening her body to his, and kissed him. He ran his tongue lightly over her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth for him. She was so lost in the kiss that she didn't notice that she had let go of his arms, and he flipped them over, smirking.

"Hey," she panted, breaking the kiss. "Not fair."

"Totally fair," he argued. "Shall I tickle you again, darling?"

"Uh, no. No more tickling."

"Then what shall I do?" He pressed a dramatic hand to his forehead and slumped down, crushing the air out of her lungs.

"Keefe! Stop! I can't breathe!"

"Then how are you talking?"

"Touche." She rolled her eyes.

"What shall I do while I keep you prisoner, Foster?"

"Will you stop saying 'shall'?"

"I shall not."

She groaned. "I don't know."

"How about a kiss?"

"How about you get off of me?"

"But a kiss sounds so much better."

She rolled her eyes. "To you."

He fake gasped. "Are you saying that you don't enjoy my kisses, Foster?"

"No. I'm just saying that your kisses would have to be a ton more amazing for it to be better than you getting off of me."

"Well, I'll try not to crush your lungs while I'm giving you a _worthy_ kiss." He moved so that he was still on top of her, but no longer crushing her chest with his own.

He leaned down and gave her the most worthy kiss she'd ever felt. It was sweet and soft, but at the same time, it melted her core to goo. His tongue was in her mouth, exploring as much as he dared, and his hands gently rested on her hips.

If her shorts were gone and his knees were any higher, he would know exactly what he was doing to her. He broke away from her, and she suddenly noticed how badly she needed air. She gasped for it, breathing heavily as his lips met her neck. She shivered at the fire it sent flowing through her veins, and he smirked against her skin.

"That feel good, Foster?"

_Act cool._ "You've got a long way to go before it beats you letting me go."

His smirk turned lethal. "Challenge accepted."

He brought his lips back to her neck, then up to her earlobe. He blew gently on the top of her ear, sending sparks everywhere. He nipped on her neck, then looked straight into her eyes and kissed her deeply.

She moaned involuntarily, arching her back so that her breasts brushed his chest.

"More?" He asked, that smirk still there. It only grew with her desperate nod. "What more do you want me to do, Foster? There's only so much without—"

"Do it."

"Do what?"

"Love me," she whispered, unable to breathe evenly. "Please."

"Are you... are you sure? You say the word, Foster, and I'll stop."

"Only if you want to," she said, hoping with everything she had that he wanted her, too.

"Yes. But... I don't want to pressure you."

"If anything, Keefe, I'm pressuring you."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"_Yes._" She had never been more sure of something— well, except maybe that Teletubbies were scary— and she wanted him. His beautiful smirk returned, and he just said, "Good." It might have been the way he said it, or it might have been the hand that slipped under her shirt, or it might have been the nibble on her collarbone, but her toes curled and she felt like she was on fire.

That hand that had slipped under her shirt moved upward, asking her gently to take it off. Sophie just grabbed the end of the hem with both hands and pulled upward, breaking the kiss and then launching herself back into it. Or— trying to. Keefe stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips, taking her bra off and gazing down at her petite breasts.

"Keefe," she murmured, her face red.

"You are... beautiful. And short. But beautiful nonetheless."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the smile that curled the edges of her mouth. "I'm not that short."

"Yes you are. But it just makes it easier to get to where I'm eventually going to go." One of his hands traced tiny corkscrew loops from the underside of her left breast to the edge of her shorts. Her breath caught as he looked her square in the eyes and took another hand to massage her right breast. She swallowed a moan when he licked her nipple, trying her hardest not to alert the rest of the house of what they were doing. Grady... they could deal with him later. Because whatever Keefe was doing to her... she couldn't get enough. She was truly, truly on fire, trying to get him to take her shorts off and do what he was doing with her breasts where she needed him.

"Needy Foster," he breathed onto her chest. She didn't even object, just looked at him with those pleading eyes.

He smirked, tucking his thumbs into the top of her shorts and underwear and pulling down slowly. Too slowly. Even as she locked eyes with him, he kept pulling down at the exact same pace. He finally reached her ankles and pushed them off.

His eyes left hers and devoured her, making her want to squirm. Instead, she kissed him and pulled up on his shirt. Soon, it was chucked across the room, and her hands were trembling, reaching for the band of his pants. He grabbed them, resting his forehead against hers and watching them shake.

"You don't have to go through with this," he said, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. "I want to."

"It's really okay—"

"Keefe." She smiled gently. "I want this. If you don't, it's fine. But I... I can barely hear my own voice." The roaring in her ears was too loud, the heat churning in her core slowly melting her insides.

"I want to. I just wanted to make sure—"

"Good." She kissed him again, shutting him up fairly quickly. Her no longer shaking hands reached again for that band, and she "accidentally" brushed a finger over the length of him as she brought them down.

His cock twitched, and she shoved the pants down to his ankles, planning to do much more than just tease him. But he just smirked and pushed her back, onto the bed.

Cold fingers met her too-hot skin and traveled downward. She felt like she couldn't breathe as he pushed one of them into her.

"Later," she breathed, wanting him inside her.

"You sure?"

"Shit, Keefe. I feel like I'm dying. Go already."

He laughed, positioning himself at her entrance and pushing in.

She hissed through clenched teeth.

"You okay?"

"Keep going. Don't stop until you get there," she ground out. It hurt, but she would heal.

He did as she asked, then stopped, letting her adjust.

Shit, he was huge. But the stinging finally faded, and she nodded at him. "Are you sure?" He asked. "We don't have to—"

"Go, Keefe. Please." She was going to die, she was going to melt, if he didn't start to move.

He pulled the considerable length of himself out, then back in. Again and again, until she couldn't feel anything but his lips against hers and couldn't remember anything but his name.

So it was the only thing that she could remember that she gasped when release washed over her, then him.

Keefe crawled up next to her and collapsed. "Woah."

She smiled lazily. "Woah."

She scooted closer to him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and falling asleep as she smiled. Somehow, the world felt less scary. Like she didn't have to face it alone anymore.


End file.
